Two Guys on a Boat
by Serendipital
Summary: When Dave lands on Kidd's ship, he's kept alive purely for amusement. But when they both end up in the middle of the ocean, what are the marine and pirate to do? Leap at each other's throats, of course. Previous title was 'Cabin Boy'. Has OC, no romance.
1. Unfortunately, He's Wasted

This is an experimental story, and one to solve any cases of writer's block which, unfortunately for me, are very numerous and often. That's good for you, though, since it will be updated frequently.

I'm going to tell you now that this will be a lot of narrative, and hopefully enough action to balance it out. So don't be afraid to give constructive criticism on any part of the story, but especially that aspect. That's what the experimental part is, after all!

I hope you enjoy this little project of mine!

**Warning:** Major spoilers for the Marineford Arc.

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><p>Normally, a man would run like hell if he saw a marine captain approaching him. Normally, a man would lie about the hidden booze (and the red covering his cheeks) and hope to get off the hook.<p>

"Yeah, Captain Sonnan. It was one hell of a party."

Unfortunately, our protagonist is not a normal man. In fact, he was a rather abnormal man.

"Cleaning? Fun."

The sarcastic tone dripping from these words did nothing to placate the captain. In fact, he only got angrier, a red hue tinting his cheeks.

Luckily for the rebellious ensign, the captain settled for a year's worth of cleaning. Of course, this was no easy task. He would be the only person cleaning (the marines would usually clean their own things to practice discipline; although they hardly matter to this story, I'll inform you that they were very happy about this turn of events), and the marine base he was in was larger than a thousand Laboons combined. Not that our protagonist would know who Laboon is.

But I digress. This man could be seen wandering the halls in an intoxicated state, not caring that a captain had performed an inspection and gotten very, very bad results.

"Hey, Dave! One hell of a party!" another drunken man informed him, apparently sharing our protagonist's opinion. Although, you couldn't blame them. Any party involving the death of a Whitebeard Division Commander was sure to be a good one. Especially after a lengthy funeral service and a depressed atmosphere that seemed to hang around for months. But I digress once again.

The man apparently named Dave waved and stumbled along. It should be noted that he had nearly two barrels of grog, so it was an amazing feat that he managed to find his room.

The place was trashed, not that the man cared much. Barrels and bottles of alcohol were scattered around the relatively tiny space, some even laying on top of the remaining men who hadn't been able to escape before alcohol ravished their systems. It was probably better that way; they could feign innocence after a shower.

Dave, however, couldn't take this option. Ignoring the incident with the admiral, it was very early in the morning, and he was due to report for duty in but an hour. So he did what any sane drunken man would do.

He flopped down on the bed, and soon a new voice was added to the chorus of snores.

I _could_ say that the story ended here. I could say that he woke up with a severe hangover, got reprimanded, and was set to work. I could add that after the year of work, he was returned to his normal position and was soon promoted for a valiant effort on the field.

And this just might have happened, had it not been for a very severe case of sleepwalking.

In order to understand the situation, we need to go back to the time he was fifteen. Depressed, tired of life, and generally annoyed with the world, Dave was like any other teen. But that's not what I'm here to tell you.

Back in his teenage years, Dave didn't sleepwalk. In fact, he was as still as a board when he slept. But when a peculiar pirate with a peculiar devil fruit arrived, the island gained its nickname of Zombie Cove.

This pirate was Roald 'Dreamer' Harris, a rookie pirate in the West Blue. He was not fond of his title-despised it, even-but he did appreciate the seven million beli bounty on his head. How he earned it, however, is a mystery and not relevant to this story.

Roald had docked on the island for the simple purpose to obtain supplies. However, he was going to pay for them like any model citizen. This was not as much a pure heart as it was a lack of the ability to overthrow a large amount of townspeople.

But Roald was mischievous. Impish, even. So before he left, he threw a special powder around the village courtesy of his devil fruit. This power would cause them to sleepwalk the rest of their lives.

It should be noted that this devil fruit caused them to do so in a peculiar way.

So we return to Dave, who was now walking out the door. It should be obvious by now that he was sleepwalking.

After but a few minutes, he managed to make his way to the docks, where he pulled out a dingy and hopped in. He released the ropes, pushed off, and he was a free man. A hungover, sleepwalking, soon-to-be fired free man, but a free man nonetheless.

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><p>Oh, and I'm aware that the title is lacking. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated, but I might think of a good one eventually.<p> 


	2. Luckily, a Mosquito Bit Him

I am a terrible human being. I'm so sorry for the long delay, my meager readers!

It was partially do to vacation, partially do to a lack of internet, and partially do to a very short planning session. But no excuses.

Hang me if you must, but please carry out my final request. Please read the Author's Notes at the bottom of this page. Thank you!

**Disclaimer:** _I do not in any way own _One Piece. _Eiichiro Oda is the genius behind it, and I am not gaining profit from writing this. This fanfiction is merely something to amuse myself, and hopefully, others while exploring the unseen moments in _One Piece_ that Oda, unfortunately, never carried out. However, I do own the main character, Dave, and this particular storyline, and these are not to be used without my permission (though I doubt fanfiction will be written, as this is also a fanfiction)._

That will never be stated again, as I don't see it necessary. See you at the end.

The separation isn't working (along with everything else I tried), so this will have to do.

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I'll tell you now that our protagonist didn't manage to row very far that night. In fact, not even five minutes after starting, he collapsed into a pile. His hat fell into the water, and the spray from the waves dampened his uniform and hair, causing it to be a darker brown than it usually was. Loud snores erupted from his mouth, and he was basically the picture of a pirate who had swallowed too much grog. Except for his uniform, unless you imagined the pirate had a fetish for dressing up like a marine.

But whether or not he had a fetish isn't very important. The mist, and the dark, smudged shape drifting out of it could easily surpass anything on the scale of importance.

With a snort, Dave rolled over cradling his head in his arms. He didn't even stir when larger waves battered the boat, threatening to turn it over. He didn't react when the ship nearly crushed him as it passed by.

Strangely enough, his eyes popped open when a mosquito decided to have a filling meal.

As it buzzed away, Dave shouted profanities, scratching the red spot with filed nails. Bug bites were awful, and even an admiral would run in the face of the deadly mosquito. At least, that was Dave's opinion as he stared at the spot with wide eyes. It didn't help much that he had a crippling fear of bugs.

But his attention was drawn away from the deadly wound as shouts rang through the air. Dave jumped and looked around, grabbing at the gun usually strapped to his back. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, flushing away the alcohol and bringing clarity to his mind.

When he couldn't feel it, he bit his lip and looked around for something else to use. He could have been overreacting, but he was likely far from a marine base due to the tide, and pirates had free reign.

Now, I'd like to draw your attention to the object of Dave's concerns, the giant ship moving through the fog. It dwarfed the tiny dingy, and was sided with gold and steel. The masts stood tall and proud, and a giant Jolly Roger was painted on the black sail. There was a giant skull at the bow with equally large skulls crossing over it, and it looked almost haunted. This would be intimidating, even without the fact Dave soon realized.

Dave nearly dropped the small switchblade he'd found, his fingers loosening their grip at the shock. It wasn't just because the ship belonged to a group of pirates. No, that wasn't it at all.

It was because the skull and crossbones didn't have any crossbones at all. Only a circular skull with an unnerving Glasgow Smile.

Eustass 'Captain' Kidd.

Dave gave a nervous laugh as he stared at the galleon approaching him. That was Kidd's ship. He was going to die. He was going to die, and he'd forever have a fear of sharp, pointy metal things.

Of course, he won't. He's our protagonist, after all! And a dead protagonist is no fun. Who would want a story describing a man as he rots?

However, Dave truly felt like he was going to die and go to Hell for drinking. And he would have, if not for a certain…trait of Kidd's.

"Please don't hurt me." Dave shivered and let out a breath before staring up at the ship. He couldn't even see the deck.

"It looks like a little marine came to play," a cold, snide voice drifted from above. The voice sounded quite a bit younger than Dave's, yet he found himself frozen with only his eyes able to move.

He heard a splash, and looked beside him to see a rope, taut and straight. Did they just throw an anchor at him?

His face paled when the terrifying voice reached his ears again.

"Climb up, marine. I need to show my new recruit what a human pincushion looks like."

Dave looked at the rope and, deciding he didn't have much of a choice, began climbing up it, awkwardly swinging back and forth. He looked akin to a dog climbing a tree. If you haven't seen the sight, I can assure you it looks absolutely ridiculous.

The sneering face of Kidd greeted Dave as he pulled himself over, gasping for breath. The rope wasn't easy to climb, and Dave didn't do much work on the field.

"Recruit," Kidd began, smirking at the marine, "This is a marine. I'm sure you've met some like this particular one." The giant man nodded gruffly, sending a glare in David's direction. He didn't feel very welcome.

"So, I want to give you the benefit of watching me kill him." Kidd grinned, although it wasn't a happy one. "It's also a little…reminder of what happens when people try to jump ship."

The giant of the man didn't even blink, as if he was expecting it. Dave's lip curled. Pirates. They were terrible, the lot of them.

Kidd smirked once again and raised his hand. As if pulled by strings, a large group of metal appeared, the objects ranging from guns to scrap.

Dave couldn't help but wonder why his title wasn't 'Magnet'. He supposed that the pirate had scared the marines in to giving him a good name.

He didn't have long to ponder these thoughts, however. The blades and pointy bits of the metal mass slowly turned to face him. It was then that Dave realized just how much danger he was in.

Now normally, the protagonist would counter these weapons with an amazing devil fruit of their own. Perhaps a solid wall of wood or some other material. But Dave didn't eat a devil fruit. If he did, he would have soared through the ranks, regardless of talent.

Dave wished that he did; he could almost see his life flashing before his eyes.

Blurry images flashed by, bringing an emotion before it was quickly pulled away. Anger, joy, bliss, hatred. Another flurry of images, and this time he couldn't even decipher the feelings that washed over him. But one thing stood out. It was the beating of his heart, fast and irregular. He really was going to die.

The pirate captain's smirk grew, and he slowly pushed his hand forward, making the weapons inch closer to his torso.

"Wait!"

Dave's call startled the young man. His hand stopped its crawl forward, and his lips quickly curled into a snarl.

"What."

"I-I can do something f-for your crew," Dave stuttered, staring at the ground.

"Really," Kidd drawled, taking a step forward. The weapons once again moved closer.

"Y-yes." Dave scanned the ship, looking for something, _anything_, to help with.

"I-I can polish your rails?"

Surprisingly, the pirate let out a bark of laughter. "You're humorous, marine. Very." Contrary to his almost friendly statement, the weapons crept forward once again. They were only a mere yard away.

"I can do anything you want! Anything!" Dave got to his knees and bowed his head. He wanted to live, damn it!

Kidd glared triumphantly down on him. "It seems that every marine cowers before the King of the Pirates."

Dave scowled. He had just gotten to the New World, the cocky-

"Maybe I should let you live," Kidd mused, turning to his crew. "I'm sure we could get some use out of you; maybe you can be bait."

Dave nodded, changing his scowl into a pleading expression. At least there was a chance whatever tried to eat him would spit him out. He was sure that alcohol wouldn't be to a fish's liking.

"Killer? Go ahead and put him in the storage room."

Killer nodded and slung Dave over his shoulder. They walked through a large doorway and went down a number of small staircases to reach a musty room full of beer, sacks of flour, and assorted non-perishable food products.

But Dave didn't really notice. His gaze lingered on the beer, and drool was practically dripping from his wide-open mouth.

Killer ignored this and tossed him into a pile of flour sacks. "Don't eat anything," he warned, before walking out of the room.

As the sound of his heavy footsteps drifted away, Dave was faced with a dilemma. He could either drink the grog and get killed, or not drink it and have a chance of living.

As he was a major alcoholic, his decision was swayed to the first option. But the thought of just whose ship he was on quickly slammed it down on the second.

However, don't get the idea that he was a sensible, reasonable man. Part of his decision to not drink the grog was that he could always drink some later, possibly on the next island.

Unbeknownst to Dave, this saved him from a rather gruesome death involving a spork and a puffer fish.

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The separation isn't working (along with everything else I tried), so that will have to do.

Alright, readers. As you may have noticed, the sarcastic narrative is rather forced in this chapter. I don't want to spoil this story, so I'd like to ask your opinions. Should I keep the sarcastic narrative and try to deliver it equally throughout the story? Should I do the narrative, but in lesser amounts? Or should I drop the sarcastic bits entirely? Please either vote on the poll or reply in a review with your answer and reasoning. Thank you!


	3. Troubled: An Author's Note

Yes, I know this is a bit of a cop-out. You probably looked at your e-mail excitedly, glad that I actually updated. Only to find this crappy Author's Note in the glorious new chapter's place. However, there is a reason to all of this, so hear me out.

Lately, I've been swamped with homework, exhausted from sports, and reading books to brush up some writing skills in my limited free time. The conclusion? I NEED TO IMPROVE. Looking back on some of this, my writing was actually pretty nice. But it's gotten worse, and I don't want to post a chapter because of it. I'm losing motivation, and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to write an actual multi-chapter story right now. While I sort out my life, I'll be posting short one-shots…but that's all.

Now, I want your opinion on this. Should I post the short one-shots as I get some motivation back, or plow through this block and write crappy chapters until my writing gets better? Any additional thoughts are welcome.

Finally, I'd like to thank the meager readers I have for sticking with me so far. Thank you so much; I've really appreciated your support.


	4. But Then He Stumbled Across Some Filler

And the author has made her long-due return! I know this chapter is short, and I would've written more, but I need to plot ahead a bit. Also, is the style not funny enough anymore? Dry? Annoying? Suckish? Is there not enough narrator-ness? Too much narrator-ness? Please tell me in a review. It all depends on _you_, yes you, to decide whether this will be a success. And, another bright bit of news, I'll start updating regularly! Go nuts.

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><p>When Dave woke up, he found himself tied to the mast. It was an unusual place, sure, but he'd been in worse situations. Namely, that incident when he'd 'accidentally' woken up in the woman's bathroom.<p>

However, it wasn't the place or the situation he found himself in, but the pirates glaring up into his eyes. The anger was nearly palpable.

One of them-a man in a strange polka-dotted shirt with a mask over his face-stepped up, surprisingly skinny arms crossed over his chest. "You failed to get up. Punishment," he grunted. Dave felt mildly insulted when he turned on his heel and walked away from the deck of the ship. Although, he thought, I should consider himself lucky they haven't impaled me on those spikes lining the sides.

As Dave's groggy mind caught up to him, he could do no better than look around in mild confusion. "What?"

"Still hung over, marine?" Yellow-mohawk man was leaning against the rail, just as unfriendly as the rest of the crew, judging by his voice.

"Oh...that's what happened." Dave scowled, and attempted to move his arm, just a little bit, so he could stroke his stubbled chin in a scholarly manner. It didn't work. As he fought with the ropes a bit, he looked around again. The crew looked a bit familiar...

"Damn."

It was a simple word, and one of Dave's favorites. Oddly enough, it always appeared around his admittedly terrible drinking habit; most often when he couldn't remember a thing from the day he got hung over.

Which happened just as often as waking up in strange places.

Although, he had never woken up on the famous Captain Kidd's pirate ship. Dave was quite proud of himself.

"Are you going to even attempt to get yourself down, pincushion?" A voice drawled from behind the mast. "I might need to model you after your namesake."

Dave's healthy tan faded into a pale white. Damn it, why did it have to be Kidd, of all people?

"For a 'holier than thou' marine, you don't have the best manners," Kidd commented, circling the mast like a predator. His teeth were almost unnaturally sharp. Dave felt that if someone told him this man was half Sea King, he wouldn't be surprised. Although, his lipstick and lack of eyebrows were very disconcerting.

"Not at all," Dave gave a sort-of grin. "I'm on your ship, right?"

Kidd's face contorted with anger, and Dave realized that he could have phrased that a bit differently.

"YOU-" One of the spikes from the ship's edges rose into the air, hovering over Dave's vulnerable chest. There wasn't an ounce of muscle to protect him, either.

The metal glinted as it went to dive in to his rib cage, and it was only stopped with a yell from the look-out.

"There's an island coming up, right ahead! Lot 'a fog; watch out!"

Kidd swore, and the spike fell to the ground. The red-headed captain marched off to what Dave assumed was the captain's quarters, leaving Dave to breath a sigh of relief. That was too close; he had to be more careful. An idiot he was, but not a stupid idiot.

The rest of the crew either went to the back of the ship to help, or stayed behind to fix the sails in case they ran into strong winds.

In the midst of all the work, someone crawled down from the lookout and ran up to Dave.

"Sorry 'bout that, but I timed it right, I think." The man started untying the ropes that bound Dave to the mast.

Dave could only stare, both awed and confused at his behavior and the odd hairstyle.

"-And I really don't like it when he kills people like you, I mean you looked pretty confused, and all-"

It kind of looked like the top of a pepper, Dave decided. All green, with an antennae thing sticking out of the middle.

"So, you just need to stay on his good side, and 'amuse' him some more; that's the only reason you're alive, y'know-Whoops."

Dave crashed onto the deck, rump in the air in a rather unsightly fashion. His face felt like a giant had sat on it.

"Helph."

Pepper-man held out his hand, and pulled him up with ease. Apparently, he had some muscle. Unlike Dave. He wondered how the man could possibly be-and he shuddered at the thought-_manlier_ than him. The man had a freaking pepper on his head, for Sengoku's sake!

"Thanks," Dave muttered. He stood there for a moment until he noticed that Pepper-man was just staring at him.

"You didn't listen to a single thing I said." The man sighed, face held into his hands.

"Nope," came Dave's cheeky reply.

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><p>Our protagonist's appearance still alludes us! Tune in next chapter to see what he <em>actually looks<em> like!


	5. And the Plot then Thickens

"Really, I try to help you and you brush me off?" Pepper-Man muttered, eyebrows creased. Dave smiled and shrugged.

While the two continued their routine, the rest of the pirates scrambled around the ship, pulling up the sails and tying things down with lengths of rope. A sudden wind had picked up, and so it was with a frantic air they did their duties. One had to wonder why no one noticed Pepper-Man and Dave's conversation and their lack of work.

"Oh. Well," Pepper-Man commented as a raindrop splattered onto his head. "this can't be good."

As Dave prepared a witty reply, a wad of dark clouds closed in on the ship, in typical Grand Line fashion. The waves swelled, and sheets of freezing rain battered the crew.

It really was quite sudden. Almost as sudden as one of Kidd's mood swings.

Whatever possessed the weather to screw with them was beyond the crew, however, and they ran to shelter. Everyone but the newest addition, of course.

For the threads of fate had already woven around him, and practically pulled the captain into its web.

"What the hell?" Kidd snarled. He stood in the doorway to the captain's quarters, already soaked through. "When the hell did this happen?"

Dave's gaze moved slowly towards the captain. "Just a few seconds ago, actually." He didn't bother moving from his spot on deck. He would rather be washed off the ship then stay there.

"Just a few-" His anger was apparently too much for words, so he cut himself off, spluttering. Leather boots stomped on the deck as he made his way over to the marine, girly red lips pulled back in a snarl. "And no one _told_ me?" An accusing finger jabbed itself into Dave's chest, and Kidd leaned in uncomfortably close.

Dave thought this was much worse than numerous metal pointy things aimed at his important bits. Spit from a pirate's mouth was not meant to fly into someone's face; the smell of his breath alone almost made him nauseous.

"No, it happened a few seconds ago. Captain." Dave's placating, please-don't-hurt-me smile apparently set Kidd off.

"Quit being a smart-ass!" Kidd pulled various metals from the ship's rails and circled them around Dave.

It was at that moment that he remembered a certain rumor: Kidd had killed people for just looking at him funny. It was also at that moment that Dave decided to jump ship.

He ran to the railing and pulled his leg up, arms ready to push off.

Dave may have been successful, if it hadn't been for one factor. Kidd's temper could only be calmed by Killer, who was no doubt doing various important things inside of the ship. And so, like a vampiric bull that was far too obsessed with heavy metal, he rammed into Dave and knocked them both off the railing, straight into a small wooden boat. The momentum sent the boat into the water, the ropes holding it up snapping and left flailing in the wind. The waves set to work breaking it, but the boat held strong.

Its occupants, however, didn't. One last, giant wave sent the two dazed men's heads onto the wood, knocking them out cold.

The storm quickly dispersed, its task complete.

The next chapter'll be up tomorrow! I quite like these short ones. :) I would have written more…but this was a perfect place to end! I hope this counts as a start to a plot. This would be the inciting event, no?

_Sneak Peak:_

_Blackmail was a wonderful thing, if morally ambiguous. _


	6. In Which Dave Survives Through Blackmail

I hope you like the new title and summary! In light of this new plot-thing, I figured a change in things would be good.

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><p>The seagulls were singing, and the winds were blowing gently on a couple in a boat. The sharp tang of salt water filled the air, the smell setting alight a rather romantic mood.<p>

The two were draped across each other, smiling happily in their sleep as they no doubt dreamt of the once next to them. A soft sigh escaped from one's lips, and he sat up, rubbing his eye with one fist as he looked around at the beautiful atmosphere. He made to stand-somewhat frantically, for whatever reason, but couldn't. Puzzled, he looked down to his legs.

A horrified scream ripped through the air, completely dispersing any thoughts of romance.

The man kicked the other off of him and scrambled to the other end of the small boat, breathing heavily. That wasn't exactly what one did to a lover, and his reaction was, in fact, quite justified.

For, on closer inspection, it was not a couple at all. More two enemies-although, the rivalry almost completely rested on the red-haired one's side. It wasn't hard to tell, and one had to wonder how the mistake was made in the first place. Perhaps it was the red-haired one's make-up?

"You bastard!" Kidd stood up and wrapped his fingers around Dave's neck. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

Dave clawed at the fingers, face turning blue. Being the idiot he was, he couldn't resist throwing in a come-back. "If you recall, _Captain_," he practically spat the word, "you're the one who hurtled off the freaking ship."

"Oh, and I'm _sure_ that you're completely innocent." Kidd crossed his arms, large black coat adjusting to the position.

Dave took a moment to wonder how it stayed on the pirate's shoulders. This led to the inspecting of the rest of the man's outfit, especially his strange yellow polka-dotted pants. Sufficiently distracted, his temper fizzled.

With a quick look around, he could tell they were in the middle of nowhere. And if the marines had taught him anything, it was that getting lost in the New World was just short of suicide.

"It doesn't matter who's innocent or not," Dave said, pinching his nose. "We're lost, Kidd. And as much as I hate to admit it, we're going to have to work together on this."

"Like hell I'll work with you, marine _dog._" Kidd seemed to have regained his composure, but it certainly didn't keep him from making biting remarks.

"Kidd, this isn't the time for games! If you're going to act like a child, so be it. Just co-operate."

It was a little known fact that Dave was actually able to enter the marines for a reason. Most just assumed it had to do with his father, who was a note-worthy marine, if not an astounding one. But his father had always been a little too honorable for his own good, not even bothering to teach his son how to be a marine, as it would be giving him 'an unfair advantage'. And so, Dave was stuck with the job of getting in with - and developing - his own talents.

He learned during the physical exam that he could barely do thirty push-ups, much less two hundred. It was expected; he hadn't trained much, not really.

He learned during the knowledge exam that he had little to no idea how a ship worked. He hated doing labor, and he was almost proud about failing. It showed how dedicated he was to _not_ getting into the marines; after all, his father had pressured him, and even if Dave wanted to help people, he didn't like being told what to do.

It was during the practical exam that he finally got a good score. Unlike so many other marines, he had _common sense_. He stayed level headed in the tougher situations, and dropped the booze when things got serious. That trait alone made him invaluable. And when he got serious, it was so different from his usual behavior that everyone had to listen.

"I'm not asking you to like me or anything," Dave snorted, "I certainly don't like you. Just listen to me, alright?"

Kidd stared for a few seconds before reluctantly backing away, each step looking more hesitant than the last. "_Fine._" Kidd turned up his nose. "I wouldn't want to stay with a filthy marine any longer than I need to anyway."

In that beautiful moment, a tentative truce was formed between the two, and to seal the pact, they shook hands.

It was unfortunate that the truce didn't last very long.

In less than an hour, Kidd was at Dave's throat for "looking at him the wrong way". Poor Dave simply gasped for air once again, face rapidly changing hues.

"I-I thought we agreed-"

"Until you glared at me, as if you're superior!" Kidd's face matched his hair, which was quite a challenge. The two stayed in the position for a moment, until a metaphorical light bulb appeared over Dave's head.

"Do you know where we are?" The question did the trick; Kidd's grip loosened, and Dave was able to back away.

"What about it?" the pirate snapped.

"Well…I do. This place has some very obvious landmarks, and it's around a place I know_ very_ well." At Kidd's expression, Dave gestured at the tall, cylinder-like rocks that poked from the water. Kidd just grunted. "And you're going to want to keep me alive, if you want to get off the water any time soon. Unless you want to…" Dave paused, head tilted, with an innocent smile; he always did like dramatics, "swim?"

All of Kidd's teeth showed in a delightful sneer that stretched and pulled at his face. "I have a log pose." Although he wouldn't admit it, it was painfully obvious he had forgotten about the thing until that very moment.

"That's broken." Dave returned the sneer with a smile of his own. And sure enough, it was. The globe was shattered to bits, and the compass portion was broken in half.

Kidd's jaw looked like it was working furiously not to drop. "You'll be dead when we get to land." He 'humph'd and crossed his arms, like a child who hasn't gotten his way. There was even a little pout on his lip.

"Good. Hand me the oars." When Kidd didn't budge, he sighed and grabbed them himself, and stuck them into the water. He would have had Kidd row, but then he wouldn't be able to find a place he _did_ recognize. The place looked vaguely familiar, but it was still a risk he couldn't afford.

Despite the perilous situation, he grinned.

Blackmail was a wonderful thing, if morally ambiguous.

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><p>I'd like to give a big thank-you to my anonymous reviewer, The AnonyMouse. You really lifted my spirits, and thanks for the correction! I was definitely <em>not<em> traumatized; I loved your little rant…thing!

And to the rest of my reviewers, what are your opinions on the new title? Please tell me in your review!


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